The start of our relationship
by ginaromano2012
Summary: Yet another jesslock oneshot! This one is the first one I ever wrote, so be easy on it!


"Jess!" I heard a certain infuriating man calling, following me down the street. I refused to slow, though. Never, NEVER would I show an ounce of emotion towards that man again, even if it kills me, I think to myself, my anger slowly ebbing away, sadness taking it's place. I couldn't believe I thought he would have feelings for me too, why would he? I wondered. I quickened my pace at the thought, dodging Londoners who were strolling down the streets, most likely window shopping. I couldn't believe I kissed him. Why would I kiss him? My mind was buzzing. I had a flash back, remembering him stiffen the second my lips touched his own. He had reacted by jerking away from me. I leaving the flat, mumbling something to him that sounded like "I made a mistake." He was a mistake, I thought, then frowned. The problem being, he wasn't a mistake, he was amazing.

"JESSICA!" I heard Sherlock shout after me again, causing people to look at us. I glared over my shoulder to see that mad man chasing me, swerving in between people. He was trying to reach me before i got to my flat, where he knew I would instantly lock him out. Breaking into a sprint, I tried to reach my flat before the tears started springing to my eyes, knowing it was a fruitless attempt. I was just too emotional, as the man currently chasing me had pointed out on countless occasions. Only one more block, I reminded herself as the tears started sliding down her cheeks, causing me to completely lose my dignity. Why did I have to fall in love with a man who couldn't love me back?

Why would I think that someone as great as Sherlock frickin' Holmes would have even the smallest amount of feelings or attraction for a plain, optimistic, girl in her last year of law school? I was nearing my flat when I started listing the reasons why he wouldn't- couldnt-possibly love me, besides for the obvious, there was: Because he was 32 and I was 26, i bet he saw me a teenager; he was a genius and I was struggling to become a lawyer; I cared about what people thought and was over flowing with emotion; and he had John. He didnt like people, so one was enough, right? But... I couldn't help but burst fully into tears when I was reminded of how after our first case with each other, he had tucked my short brown hair behind my ear and whispered "I am truly sorry" while gazing into my eyes and I his. How he had let me cry into his shirt, when they caught my uncle's murderer. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve, no doubt smudging my mascara, as I stumbled up the steps to my small flat, digging in my purse for the tiny key.

"Jess, please!" I hear him yell once again, sounding pained this time. Good, I thought bitterly. I turned to see him three buildings down from my building. I quickly unlocked the emtrance door and opened it, slamming it behind me- only for it to be blocked by none other than Mr. Sherlock Holmes' foot. I gazed at the shiny black Italian leather and slowly moved my eyes up towards his face. He was slightly wind blown from having run after me.. Good, I think once again.

"Jessica, please, let me explain." He asks in that amazing baritone that originally caught my attention, it reminding me of creamy chocolate and velvet. It still gives me shivers. I look into his eyes and see a flicker of-was that pain?- before a coldness settles over his features. I sighed, knowing I won't win. So, I open up the door and head toward 459a- my home- and unlock the door. He follows me into the living room, shutting the door behind himself. I turns away from him and rub my eyes once again, refusing to show him weakness by crying in his presence. He wouldn't cry, no matter how much pain he felt, so neither would I. That's one thing I admired most about the man-his strength and his ability to give others strength that they never imagined they could posses.

Sherlock looked around my flat, probably deducing when I had last had a visitor and what I kind of tea I had served them, or some nonsense like that. I knew he tended to do that when he was thinking or uncomfortable, but I felt no pity. He put himself in this situation. "Jess..." He started, then cleared his throat, "Jess, I-I-I want to explain why I did what I did." Sherlock stutters, fixing his grey eyes on my own hazel ones. I nods, not trusting my vocal cords, not with the lump growing in my throat. I will not cry, I repeated in my head like a mantra. "I pushed you away when you...er... Kiss-kissed me," he stumbles over the word kiss, "Because... Jess... I do not know what I am doing. I have never had feelings for anyone, I am married to my work! Or that is what I thought. I don't know what to think anymore!" Sherlock ends his sentence by throwing his hands up and spinning around on his heel, now facing the front door, his arms clearly crossed over his chest, rubbing his temple in an irritated fashion.

I cocked my head, "It's okay, Sherlock. I get it. You don't care about me. I'm a big girl, I can accept that." I said, a few tears spilling out of my eyes again. I silently cursed myself, I could accept it, doesn't mean I could live with it. Without him. Sherlock and John had quickly became part of my life after they helped me solve the case, I didnt have family, so I made the residents of 221 my family. I was always there with them, helping them whenever I could: feeding them, joking with them, running around London on crazy cases with them, and even studying with them- Sherlock knew quite a bit on the history of the law. Sherlock tensed at her sentence, not saying anything. I wished I could see his face, to be able to read his expression. Well, that or disappear, I sighed. "Just go home, Sherlock. I won't bother you guys anymore."

Sherlock spun around, an expression of fear and raw emotion on his face, one that I, personally, found completely terrifying. It wasn't at all like his usual calm facade. "How dare you say that? Jess! Oh God! How do I do this?" He started growling, then ended the sentence by mumbling to himself. Suddenly he took two strides toward me and pulled me to his chest. I looked up at him, feeling his erratic heart beat falling in sync with my own.

"Jessica Abbott, you are, and always will be, mine." He said, crashing his warm lips to my own. I instantly reacted, twining my fingers into his hair and pulling him closer. I felt like the world was spinning, going a thousand miles an hour. I never wanted it to stop. Then it did. Sherlock ended the kiss, leaning his forehead against mine. "Jess, I am not good enough. I do not know how to do this. I deleted it all and I do not want to disappoint you." He said, a longing look in his eyes. I looked at him, a tender smile making its way onto her face. "Then, I'll teach you." I said, pulling him back into another heart stopping kiss.


End file.
